


violets and purples, diamonds and circles (you're my kaleidoscope)

by michellejones_stacy



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dating, Established Relationship, Fluff, Harley Keener Flirts, Harley Keener and Gwen Stacy are Best Friends, Harley Keener is In Love, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Precious Peter Parker, They're gay your honor, but it's weird cause no sex actually happens or is implied to happen?, he's literally the most adorable boy ever i love him, his flirting is just. teasing Peter lmao, i didn't know how to tag it :/, it's great, kind of, soft harley keener, there's just a lot of hinting at past sexy times but no sexy times actually happen, this entire fic is just them being soft and cute and adorable in different situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29451327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellejones_stacy/pseuds/michellejones_stacy
Summary: “Such a pretty little ladybug. Thebestestladybug ever. I bet your spots bring all the boys to the yard, huh. Or all the girls, I pass no judgment.”Harley rolled back over. “Don’t ya know you’re supposed to blow them off? To get a wish.”“What?” Peter gasped dramatically. “Howdareyou, I’m not gonnablow Miss Ladybug away, what the fuck.”orHarley is gay for Peter. So gay. There is so much gay, all the time.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Gwen Stacy, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Gwen Stacy
Comments: 13
Kudos: 180





	violets and purples, diamonds and circles (you're my kaleidoscope)

**Author's Note:**

> i'm trying to work on my gwenmj wip but the words for it won't go, so in a fit of spite and rage i decided to write this, and bc i was so mad at the english language i decided to make it the fluffiest thing i've ever written ever :D
> 
> i wrote this straight in the text box in like 2 hours on a very (objectively speaking) shitty electronic device, so im very very sorry for any mistakes or anything—feel free to point them out to me!
> 
> just a warning, there are like 3 different "parts" to this, and they're all unrelated to one another. they aren't meant to be snippets from the same story or anything, they are 3 separate things that fit the Vibes of what i was going for
> 
> feedback is appreciated :)

“You can’t sit there and tell me it wouldn’t be cool, though.”

A laugh burst its way out of Harley’s chest, and he nudged his shoulder against Peter’s. It didn’t do much, as Peter was, you know, an enhanced individual and everything, and probably inflicted more pain onto him than it did to Peter, but it still got his point across. Maybe. You never knew with Peter. “You’re insane.”

Peter threw his head back in laughter. “I am _not,”_ he said, throwing an arm around Harley’s shoulders, most likely having to stretch himself out because Harley was taller. “Take it back.”

“Can’t do that, darlin’,” Harley told him as they walked down the sidewalk, his voice more than a little smug. He couldn’t have helped that, though—it was so easy to tease Peter. And that wasn’t a statement meant to poke at him, or anything, it was the truth. It was genuinely easy for Harley to tease Peter. To rile him up. To make him pretend to be offended and do something to shut Harley up, which was always fun. “Not my fault that’s how you come across to people.”

“To _you,_ you mean.”

Harley grinned. “Again, not my fault.”

“You’re an ass.” Peter swooped up to press a kiss against Harley’s jawline. “A very rude ass. Who's very mean to me.”

“Not my fault–”

“Shut up!”

* * *

See, the thing about Peter Parker that Harley had discovered—more like _a_ thing about Peter Parker that Harley had discovered, because there were so many beautiful, wonderful things about him—was that he loved frequently. All the time. His view on the world was so bright and happy and _Peter_ , and he doled out love to anyone and anything he thought deserved it.

It was endearing.

Now, the thing about Harley was that he. Didn’t. Do that. It was a problem he was just now starting to both realize and deal with—bleh, emotional maturity, bleh—and it was all because of Peter.

Peter looked at the cracks in the ceiling of the APUSH classroom and laughed and saw stories instead of seeing a broken-down classroom that needed a major upgrade. Which. Again. Endearing. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t anything life-changing or world-exploding or anything—Peter did it, so Harley liked it.

“Who’s a pretty ladybug,” Peter cooed, resting on the floor on his stomach and holding his hands close to his face, with Harley on his back on Peter’s bed. “Such a pretty little ladybug. The _bestest_ ladybug ever. I bet your spots bring all the boys to the yard, huh.” Harley had to roll over to muffle his snicker into one of Peter’s pillows. “Or all the girls, I pass no judgment.”

God, Harley really wanted to kiss him.

Sometimes, he could not understand why he was in love with Peter. In an overall sense. Because Peter was honestly the weirdest boy he’d ever met. But, apparently, Harley was into that. He was _so_ into that. It was ridiculous. And also the best thing ever.

Harley rolled back over to face Peter and cleared his throat. “Don’t ya know you’re supposed to blow them off? To get a wish.”

 _“What?”_ Peter gasped dramatically, eyes snapping to Harley’s ones which were no doubt conveying the exact amount of fondness that was currently in his heart. “How _dare_ you, I’m not gonna _blow Miss Ladybug away,_ what the fuck.”

“You–” Harley choked on the laughter that made its way up his chest. “You _named_ the ladybug?”

“Of course I did,” he defended, his eyebrows drawn over his eyes as he looked back down at the crawling red bug in his hands. “Why wouldn’t I? She deserves a name, Harls, and also literally all of the love in my heart, okay, she’s–” His eyes lifted to Harley’s again. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason,” Harley said, his voice soft and soaked to the brim with fondness. “Just lookin’.”

Peter grinned. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Oh, _I’m_ the ridiculous one.” Harley rolled off the bed and moved until he could plop himself down next to Peter. Peter stayed on his stomach, but Harley laid next to him on his back, holding himself up on his elbows and letting his head hang back a bit. “I’m not the one who named a ladybug and wants to keep it as a pet.”

“Exactly,” Peter chirped, and Harley was overcome by an indescribable emotion. (It honestly probably was describable, but Harley knew that it was also something extremely - sappy, or some shit, and he was not looking to reaffirm himself as a complete and total sap. Even if he totally was.) “That’s exactly my point. Congrats, you proved me–”

The rest of his words were muffled by the searing kiss Harley initiated. Peter didn't respond at first, probably taken off guard—and dammit, Harley had meant to ask—but he melted into it a few seconds later, after he'd recovered. His lips moved against Harley's, and he moved in closer, and Harley's heart was probably going into cardiac arrest from how hard it was beating in his chest.

Kissing Peter felt… It was contradictory. Each time they kissed it felt like the first time, but it also felt achingly familiar, like.

He didn't know what he was talking about, alright, all he knew was that he wanted to kiss Peter for the rest of his life. Or Peter's life. Or for the both of their lives. Yeah.

(And that was a scary thought, wasn't it, considering that they were both only seventeen-year-olds in their junior year of high school, but Harley was currently trying to not get entirely overwhelmed by Peter, so that was a thing to freak out about at another time. Probably later that night, when he was alone in his room and would have the space and sense of security to do the actual freaking out.)

Peter pulled away, a smile on his face that he tried to hide by biting his lip. Harley eyed the way Peter's teeth sunk into his bottom lip, vibrating with restrained energy and the effort it was taking to hold himself relatively still, as it was pretty obvious that Peter wanted to say something, and Harley was going to be a good boyfriend and be respectful by listening to what Peter had to say. He was not going to let himself get distracted by the way Peter's shoulders were close to heaving, or by the way a strand of his curly brown hair was starting to fall over his forehead, or by the way Harley wanted to lean back in and–

“Harley!”

Harley snapped out of his thoughts. His very bad thoughts that he should not have been having because he was supposed to be paying attention to Peter. Which he didn’t do. Because he was a weak son of a bitch.

“What?” he asked. “I was listening.”

Peter rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips that Harley was definitely not watching, nope, not at all. He was not a stereotypical teenager who was ruled by their sex drive or attraction to their partner, okay, he was better than this. Maybe. “You’re such a shit liar.”

And Harley would’ve been offended—because _ouch,_ damn—but then Peter was leaning back in to start up another bout of kissing, and everything was forgotten.

(“Watch Miss Ladybug, Harley, you’ll crush her!”)

Almost forgotten.

* * *

“You’re whipped,” Gwen told him casually, her legs bracketing his shoulders and her fingers running through his hair. “So whipped.”

“Fuck off,” Harley said, rolling his eyes. He winced when Gwen’s fingers caught on yet another knot in his hair—he really needed a haircut, but he wasn’t going to get one anytime soon. His hair reached his jawline, tumbling down in curls, and while it was inconvenient at times, he was willing to deal with it. For personal reasons that didn’t need to make themself known. “Like you’re not.”

A sharp tug on his hair made him wince again, and Harley really wished he had the sense to not throw mild insults at the person who had handfuls of his hair in their hands. “Okay, yeah, I’m gay for Em, we all know.” Harley relaxed a bit as Gwen’s hands soothingly ran through his hair, separating it into two sections, split in the middle. “But if you compare you and me, on a set scale with set measurements, it’s not me who’s higher.”

“Fuck off,” Harley repeated, no heat in his voice because it was Gwen and he loved Gwen, and that was just how they communicated. It was mutual.

Gwen tugged his hair again, not as sharp as before but still hard. “I’m just saying.” She laughed. “I’m not the one who wrote ‘Peter has pretty eyes’ in an essay.”

“You said you’d never bring that up!”

“I’m not. I’m just trying to say that I’ve never waxed poetic about the twinkle in Em’s eyes–”

“‘kay, so that’s it, I’m out.”

Harley made like he was going to untangle himself from in between Gwen’s legs—and he really should’ve, his butt was starting to ache a bit—but Gwen let out another laugh and tugged him back down. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, let me finish.”

He sighed. “Why are you doin’ this? I don’t remember actually agreein’ to this in the first place.”

“Because. It’ll make you look all pretty and cute for Peter.” Harley sagged in defeat. Damn it. Gwen straightened up at his back, and Harley sighed, closing his eyes, knowing that something was coming. “Peter, who has the prettiest eyes–”

“I will hit you,” Harley threatened with no plans of actually following through with it.

“You won’t,” Gwen shot back. “You and I both know you love me too much to hurt me.” She paused. “Well, not as much as you love Peter and his eyes–”

“Gwen,” he groaned. _Groaned_ and not _whined,_ because he didn’t _whine._ Much. About a lot of things. It happened sometimes, okay, he couldn’t help it. “Just. Finish doin’ my hair so I can leave.”

“And get back to Peter,” she teased. “I totally understand, babe, don’t worry. I do,” she insisted at Harley’s answering groan. “Em is supposed to be coming over later, and I’m not doing your hair when I could be. Doing other things.”

“What other things we talkin’ about?” Harley asked innocently, looking for payback. “Does the honorable Gwen Stacy do dirty things with her girlfriend?” he gasped in mock surprise.

“Oh, shut it.”

* * *

“Carry me.”

Harley rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna carry you, honey. Now let’s go.”

Peter wiggled on his bed like a starfish. “But my leg. Is broken.” He pointed down at it for good measure, like doing that was going to do anything to change Harley’s mind.

“It’s _sprained,”_ Harley corrected. “Because you decided it’d be a good idea to jump out of a burnin’ building. Without using any webs.”

“Okay, yeah, same difference.” Peter waved Harley’s words away. “And I only jumped out because I was out of web fluid, which is hardly my fault. _And,”_ he stressed, “it was a burning building. My lungs are probably all messed up. Which means no physical exertion. Which _means…”_

“‘M not carryin’ you.” Harley crossed his arms over his chest and moved closer to Peter’s bed. His hair fell out over his eyes as he looked down, and he lifted a hand to brush it back, tucking it behind his ears. He was rewarded with an appreciative look from Peter, and he tamped down hard on the urge to grin like a fool. “You’re the one who wanted to go outside,” he reminded him. “Not me. So let’s go.”

Peter groaned. “Okay, fine, I changed my mind, let’s just stay here and do something.”

“Do wha– _Oof.”_ He looked down at Peter’s smug smile, shifting himself so his hips were brackets by Peter’s thighs and he could hold himself up with his forearms, which were planted on either side of Peter’s head. “Really?”

“What?” Peter asked him sweetly, innocently, even, and with a cheeky grin on his face. “I didn’t do anything.”

Harley snorted. “Right.” He sighed, lowering himself and burying his face in the soft skin between Peter’s neck and shoulder, his hair fanning out over some of Peter’s skin. He took a deep breath, feeling the way Peter’s arms came up to hug him and how his hands rested on his back, lightly stroking up and down. “When’s the last time you took a shower, darlin’?”

Peter burst out into laughter, his body shaking and shaking Harley’s along with it. “Dude. I’m so insulted right now, oh my god. _Rude.”_ He shook his head, temporarily dislodging Harley’s head from his neck before Harley stuck it right back. “When was the last time you took a shower?”

“‘Fore I came over,” Harley mumbled, his lips moving against Peter’s neck. “‘Cause Abby did the shaving cream prank thing an’ I had to wash it off.”

“Ooh, did she take pictures?”

“I dunno, I was kinda busy tryin’ to not ingest shaving cream.”

“Ass,” Peter muttered fondly, and Harley gave his neck a quick nip, pressing his teeth lightly into Peter’s skin. “ _Cute_ ass,” he corrected. “The best ass. My favorite ass in the entire world.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Peter hummed. “Maybe.”

They laid in silence for a few moments before Harley spoke up. “Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you… Can you say it? The thing.”

Harley felt Peter’s grin. “I love you.”

He let out a whoosh of air. “Yeah.”

“And you love me too.”

“I do.”

“Which is amazing, by the way. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that, but it’s so amazing. Really amazing.”

Harley smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> they're adorable little babies, that is all
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](https://michellejones-stacy.tumblr.com)! let's be friends <33


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